


Goodbye, friend.

by captandor



Series: One Day at a Time RPG [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 23:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19451329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captandor/pseuds/captandor
Summary: What: Katie finally does something she's been dreading.When: 6/16/98; middle of the night, 3am or so (technically the 17th).Where: The outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole in Devon, England.Warnings: Angst, mentions of character death.





	Goodbye, friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on One Day at a Time RPG.

It was chilly in Devon. Katie didn't know why that surprised her, this was England after all, and only June and the last time she had seen was nearly 3 o'clock in the morning. She'd had the Portkey sitting on her bedroom dresser for three days now, her father had gone to the Ministry and picked it up. It was only good until the 20th. She didn't know what exactly had prompted her, but she'd been pacing in her room in the middle of the night, unable to sleep again, and she'd suddenly thrown on a hoodie over her fuzzy pajama pants and old tee and stuffed her feet into her trainers and grabbed the thing.

And now she was here and she didn't know why or what she was supposed to do. But she stuffed the tin can portkey into her hoodie pocket and lit her wand with Lumos and started down the dirt path toward a small graveyard. Simple headstones, some obviously generations old, lined the path. She stopped in a newer part of the cemetery - the grass was nicer here, and the headstones were in better shape. Turning to her left she stepped carefully among the burial plots, towards a freshly filled grave in particular. There wasn't a headstone yet, just a marker with a name. She couldn't bring herself to shine her wand's small light on the name, and so she put out the spell and sat in the grass next to the pile of dirt with her legs crossed. She reached out a shaking hand and patted the soil. And that - the act of touching the dirt - seemed to be what made the truth of the matter come home to her.

She burst into tears. Wet tracks stained her chilly cheeks and her bright red hair got stuck in them some, coming free from her hasty ponytail in her near-hysteria. She sobbed for a long time, she didn't know how long, in the dark of the night, only the moon shining down on her and the pile of dirt.

"Fred," she finally choked out between gasping heaves for breath. "Oh, Fred," she said, a fresh wave of sobs wracking her body. When she'd finally seemingly cried herself out, she took a shaking, shuttering breath and concentrated on the earth in front of her. How could he really be here? How could he really be gone? Dead?

Fred was full of more life than anyone she'd ever known. A ray of hilarious sunshine, witty and quick and physical and vibrant - bringing light and color and levity to every room he stood in. And now he was here. Just a pile of dirt. And she hadn't even had the strength to attend his memorial. She hadn't had enough love left in her heart to join his family and his friends and her closest allies and say a proper goodbye to him.

Her heart seemed to break all over again. She hadn't even thought to dress nicely to say her goodbyes. Part of her thought Fred would find that funny; he'd tear into her over and over about her silly pajama bottoms - fuzzy pants with little stars all over them in Gryffindor scarlet and gold. Her trainers were neon yellow. That made her smile and then smiling made her feel guilty and the tears started again, slowly, quietly this time.

She took her hair down in frustration, taking a deep breath, and began speaking to him. She didn't know quite what she was saying, but her voice was soft and soothing and she wanted him to know how much he had meant to her. Still meant to her.

Then, as if from a long forgotten dream, words came to her. She vaguely recalled that they had been spoken by old Mr. Aldrich Cogg when his sister had passed. Katie had been just about to start Hogwarts, and it had been a beautiful, lightly breezy summer day in London when the Bells had joined Mr. Cogg at her funeral mass. She had been a Squibb, but a nice lady from what the people said at the funeral. They were in a muggle Church and Katie's dress was too starchy and she wanted to be outside playing, but she'd been very good and had tried very hard not to fidget. And then Mr. Cogg spoke and she let that familiar, sad, gravel voice of his lull her into a strange sort of relaxation. She breathed deeply now and recalled a portion of the prayer.

"To keep forever sacred the memory of those we have loved and lost." She whispered the phrase, feeling the strength in it, and suddenly feeling much calmer and more at peace than she had in weeks. With that saying repeating over and over in her head, she allowed herself one more tear, took a deep breath, and patted Fred's grave one more time. Standing up and pulling the portkey from her pocket, she whispered, "Goodbye, friend," just as magic tugged at her stomach and she was whisked back into the isolated cave that her bedroom had become just after 5 in the morning.


End file.
